


Pivotal Moment

by florgi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, i've meant to write this for so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florgi/pseuds/florgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The German player smiled at him fondly and his face looked so bright that Ivan could feel himself gravitating to his proximity like a planet falling for his Sun."</p><p>I was mesmerized by Ivan Rakitic celebrating his goal with Ter Stegen (who was on the bench). This is my take on that moment.</p><p>--Based on La Liga match between Barcelona and Granada that took place Feburary 20th of 2015--</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pivotal Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I had to study so much during the time this happened I couldn't write it on time. But here finally is. Hope you like it!

His cleats hit the dry grass time and time again, every step faster. Luis was running in front of him to the left and he would probably shoot straight to the net. He did but he ball didn’t get the right angle. The adrenaline running through his veins made everything go in slow motion. Ivan saw the Granada defender touching the ball and leaving it just in front of the net. It was an open invitation.

Ivan just kicked. He could hear the sound of the ball hitting the back of the net even among all the mess and the noise. He had scored.

His feet started running without him asking them to do so. A relieved sound travelled all the way to his lips and his throat hurt a little when he finally screamed.

Soon enough he felt a pair of arms hugging him while he was still running. Then there were two. Luis and Neymar. Xavi followed them congratulating him in Catalá, probably product of the excitement. He could see Leo approaching too. All of his team mates were coming to hug him, pat his back, congratulate him and in cases like Jordi, kiss him. He let them do as they pleased. But there was someone missing.

The adrenaline of the goal was still running wild through his veins. This time he was well aware to the direction his feet were taking him. He placed his eyes on the face of the man he was dying to hug. But Ivan discovered that he wasn’t looking at him. His eyes followed the clear sky blue gaze and found Mascherano talking with Luis Enrique in hushed voices both with their hands covering their mouths.

He was so concentrated on the scene that didn’t notice Rafihna standing in front of him. He would’ve fallen if the Brazilian hadn’t wrapped his arms around him right then. But as much as Ivan appreciated the young player, he was longing for a different touch. So he dismissed Rafa gently and walked the few meters that were separating them.

Marc André was smiling at him. He wasn’t jumping or screaming. He wasn’t bursting with energy. He was happy and joyful and excited… but in the calm and peaceful way of him that had captivated Ivan since the very first time they trained together. Marc’s face was an oasis of peace among the noise and the chants and the referee’s whistles and the screamed orders. The German player smiled at him fondly and his face looked so bright that Ivan could feel himself gravitating to his proximity like a planet falling for his Sun.

They hugged. And everything seemed more than alright.

They hugged and if Ivan thought that his goal flashed through his mind in slow motion, that didn’t even compare to the way the world froze when he buried his face in the crook of Marc’s neck.

The rest of the universe melted around them and for two or three infinite seconds the whole world was made of their bodies, their heartbeats and the strong scent of grass impregnated on Marc André’s skin.

But then the world resumed to its normal course. The ninety minutes of the match kept running. The players took their positions. The crowds kept cheering. Their bodies were no longer pressed together.

Marc André looked at Ivan with his impossibly clear blue eyes and Ivan cursed the people watching them. He could have kissed him right then and there.

Ivan ran to his position, his heart fluttering for a reason that had nothing to do with his freshly scored goal. He dedicated a last furtive gaze to the bench and caught a glimpse of that smile that could turn his world around.

The whistle let him now that the game was back on. His cleats already knew where to run.

**Author's Note:**

> I take request on my tumblr: xavimascheranos  
> Thank you so much for reading.  
> -florgi


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